The Quest of Destiny
by Mrs.ChristinaFelton
Summary: Draco finds himself facing his sixth year at Hogwarts, but what he doesn't know is that he will prove to be more influential to the good of the wizarding and muggle world even than Harry. Chapters 6 and 7 are up.
1. The Meeting

It was mid-afternoon halfway through summer break and Sylvie Morgans was walking down the center of the town. It was a difficult task, but being raised in London, she was used to the busy streets. She walked in the small corner store. The manager greeted her by name, as she was a regular customer. She purchased a new backpack as hers was old and worn from five of her school terms. She looked at it as he put it in a plastic bag. It was green; she figured it would go well with her blonde, curly hair, pale complexion and deep green eyes. _Yes_, Sylvie thought to herself, _It is going to be a good day_.

She slung the white, crinkled bag over her shoulder and decided to take the scenic way home, through the park. She ran across the road outside of the corner store and snuck through the tall bushes to enter the park. She looked at the bushes behind her and smiled to herself, she never went through the main gates, she didn't want anyone to know she had entered, so she wouldn't have to leave when they locked up and emptied the park. She looked at her watch, one-half hour to closing time. That should give her time to find a good tree to sleep in.

Sylvie Morgans was an orphan, her dad didn't know she was born, her parent's weren't married, and Sylvie's mother died during her birth. Sylvie had been transferred again and again between orphanages and foster homes, until one orphanage was so horrible she ran away. That was when she lived in the United States, but once she ran away from the horrid place, she knew it was time to travel far away, very far away. She was out on the street and a very wealthy looking man passed by. She nicked his wallet and ran. He didn't even realize it was gone until he had gone home.

She knew from her street-smarts that she was near the airport, although she was only seven years old, she was remarkably intelligent and had a photographic memory.

She walked through the airport doors and paid a beggar to buy her a ticket to London. She had lived there ever since.

Sylvie climbed her favorite tree and settled herself in. This tall maple had the best view of them all and was one of the easier to climb. She began to doze off thinking her day over and making plans for the next when she heard the gateman walk under her tree, looking for people, as it was closing time and everyone must leave. She held her breath and prayed her silent hope, that once again she would not be discovered. The man walked away and a quarter of an hour later, Sylvie heard the large metal gates close.

She jumped from her hiding place to search for left over scraps of food before the raccoons would find them.

That's when she saw him, tall with white-blonde hair that fell in his golden-green eyes, the nearby streetlights illuminating his lightly tanned skin. He had the most unusual clothes on; they looked like a black cloth, draped on him, yet all connected. That's when she began running with fear.

She didn't know where she was going but she knew she had to get there fast, and lose her follower on the way while doing so. She was a runner, at fifteen years old, she knew what she was doing, yet the young man didn't fall behind. She ran and ran, until the tightening within her chest was too much to bear. She was starving, out of breath and dehydrated. She had now guessed that the young man was a new park ranger, and now she was in trouble, going to be sent to another orphanage, no doubt. At least she had given him a hell of a fight, but it was now time to surrender.

"Fine!" she yelled in desperation, "You've won! I'm leaving! Just do me a favor and take a long walk of a short dock and…"

"Why did you run?" the young blonde man asked innocently.

Sylvie looked him in the eyes and suddenly felt incredibly stupid. "You aren't a park ranger, are you?"

"Er, no… actually, I'm a… um… how would you say 'homeless' in a nice way?" the young man asked.

"I don't know, I guess it depends if it was your choice or not, as I chose to live the way I do, I am simply homeless and stupid, though if you had no choice in the matter, one would suppose you could be called stranded?"

"Well, one things for sure and that is that I am not 'stranded'. I chose to run away and now that I have, I think it is the proper thing to do to introduce myself to my new neighbor. My name is Draco Malfoy and until this morning, I was not homeless."

Sylvie thought this over, she was utterly repulsed by the young man who claimed to be named 'Draco', but yet she didn't trust him either.

"Come, let's head back to the centre of the park, it is much less visible to a passerby, than our current location; next to one of the fences. I am just curious, but where were you planning to _go_ once you reached this fence?"

"I shall answer your questions on the way back to the centre if that is where you truly wish to go; but firstly, my name is Sylvie Morgans and I am not stranded either.

And I _was_ planning to climb the fence until I remembered the barbed wire along the top of it, I figured scaling the fence wasn't worth my life," Sylvie explained.

"Yet you were willing to sacrifice yourself to a park ranger, and give up your… um… _home_ without a second thought? It seems to me that you had a feeling that a good thing couldn't last forever".

"Yes, I did feel it was coming, so when you startled me my fear worked ahead of my mind and I ran. My thought was that if I could run away, I might be able to lie about my age, get a job and search for a new home, which would end up being some park similar to this, but then I saw the barbed wire, completely lost my mind, turned around, and felt entirely stupid, when I realized you are much the same age as me and therefore couldn't possibly be a park ranger," Sylvie got out with the same breath. They had reached the centre and were now underneath her tree.

"I am sorry that I startled you, but I don't know how to live on the streets, and when I saw you I hoped you would be able to help me; but if you are unable to, I understand perfectly," Draco said in a modestly calm fashion.

"Yes… I believe I _can_ help you, but once the summer is over, I must return to my studies at the local public school, but until then, I shall help you in whatever way seems most beneficial to your new life."

"Thank you very much, and I must also return to my school at the end of the summer, but I believe I will have learned a great deal from you by then," Draco said in a very thankful tone.

"I am pleased to be of assistance, but first, I have some questions."

"Alright, ask away, but if it's not to bold, I must say that you seem to manage to ask a lot of things in a very short amount of time… not just simple questions, either, no doubt you have a strong judge of character?" Draco asked innocently enough.

"Yes, I _do_ have a strong judge of character, but it seems to me that you are _avoiding _my questioning of you; which of course means that you have something very _important_ to hide. No doubt it has something to do with the fact that 'until this morning you were not homeless'. Of course that would make _perfect_ sense, as you must have robbed someone or someplace and gotten caught, so you ran away. This would also explain your clothing which would of course have been a costume so as you _wouldn't _get caught, but your plans were foiled, you got caught in the act so you ran; and the _nerve_ you have to ask me for help! You obviously think that I'm some common criminal, but believe me, I have never stolen a thing in my life, thus my living condition, but at least my conscious is clear," Sylvie lied.

"I believe that you have wrongly accused me of _many_ things, but you were on the right when you said I had something to hide. Though, I too have never stolen anything from anywhere or anybody. Now, I believe that a few of your questions would have this mess untangled in no time."

Sylvie wasn't one who took being in the wrong very lightly, it highly offended her and she had serious issues admitting that she wasn't always right. But the way the boy stood calmly, looked her in the eye with respect and didn't raise his voice while defending himself, made her thing that maybe she wasn't right about him, maybe he's just a teenager trying to make his life better, just like her. She decided it was a chance she was going to take, for as he had voiced, she had a strong judge of character, and her questions would _indeed_ uncover the truth, or if not, reveal the lies.

"Okay" she said, "I'm going to take your word, but if I find any reason _not_ to trust you, you must leave and find your own park to live in." Draco smiled at her as she said this; this was definitely a girl you wouldn't want to double cross.

"Alright" he said, "Ask away."

"Well, firstly, as I imagined you would have guessed, I want to know why you ran away this morning, and why it had to be _this_ particular morning."

"Okay, well…I think I have to ask you one thing… um… first, otherwise and if _I_ get the answer _I_ expect, I shall leave and find my own park, agreed?" Sylvie nodded her head in agreement; she wanted to see where this was going.

"Are you a muggle?" Draco asked.

Now this was an unexpected turn in the situation for Sylvie, she had found out exactly_ what_ she was the summer when she was eleven years old. She had received a letter, that had been addressed to her tree… she had been so scared she discarded it, only to find another in its place. When she read it she had discovered that she had been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She had no choice but to take them seriously, but she also had to choose to turn them down. She was not ready to go someplace that would most definitely reveal secrets of her past, and she had a nagging feeling that her past was not a pleasant one and that it would be better if she knew nothing of it. She thought that by "muggle" he meant non-magic person. She had seen some men dressed just like him use the term, suddenly it all fit.

"I umm… don't know exactly what the term means…," she began.

"Just as I thought," he said and began to walk away.

"Wait! I don't know what the term means, but I am a witch if that's what you were asking," Sylvie held her breath and hoped she was right about him being a wizard.

Draco turned around and looked her over.

"You don't look like much of a witch to me, and you said that you went to the nearby public school, there aren't any wizarding schools near here and none of them are public. You also dress like a muggle."

"Are you going to _tell me_ what the term means?" she asked in desperation, "I don't have all night! And I _was_ accepted to a wizarding school, but I turned them down, as I like the one I already attend, and I'm not a big fan of changes, especially those of drastic sorts," she explained.

"Muggle means non-magic person. I used the term exclusively because only those of the wizarding world say it. I knew that if you were a muggle, you wouldn't know what I was talking about, but as it turns out, I should have been more direct with my question."

"That's what I thought it meant, but I wasn't entirely sure, I saw some men dressed like you walking about in London, and they used the term while I was listening, so I followed and tried to figure it out from the context. May I continue to ask you my questions now?" Sylvie asked.

"Yes, but I haven't gotten around to answering your first few yet. I ran away because my father is a dark-wizard. He is a follower of the darkest wizard of all time; he is merciless and wants to take over the entire wizarding world, and then probably this one. He hates muggles and thinks that they should all die. He has already killed many, and he and his followers take great pleasure in torturing them. He was put out of power about fifteen years ago, but he has recently returned. I ran away because my father thinks that it is time that I follow in his footsteps, but little does he know that my mean and crude behavior is a mask, because I am a double-crosser, and I pass information to a organization of good wizards who are trying to defeat the darkest wizard. No one knows I'm a double-crosser, except those in the organization, and you. The stress was just too much for me to handle, I couldn't do it all, I mean really, I'm only sixteen and… I have enough to do just worrying about my own life, much less living two and lying constantly to my father, seeing him use my mother as nothing more than a title for his own benefit. For the Dark Lord respects pure-bloods who marry other pure-bloods. So I thought that the only way out that wouldn't end in immediate death would be to run away," Draco explained patiently.

"Wow… I had no idea it was that complicated, I'm sorry that your life has been so demanding and difficult. But, I'm still me, and being myself, I still have more questions," Sylvie said in her usual dignified manner. "What school do you go to; I assume it's a wizarding school?"

"Yes, it is a wizarding school. I attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I will begin my sixth year on the first of September," Draco informed her.

"That's the school I got accepted to! But I had no idea about the trades you can enter after attending that school, and I was already planning a future in the muggle trade of criminal justice. I suppose you have something like that there, like the organization you were talking about. What is "the darkest wizard of all's name?" she asked with high curiosity. Draco looked her in the eye for a long moment, as if debating what he was about to say was of good judgment.

"His name…." he began in a whisper, "is Voldemort, but don't ever speak the name aloud, it will bring you bad fortune, you never know if he can hear you… just bout everyone in the wizarding world calls him "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named". I recommend that be what you call him as well," Draco finished by turning around to make sure there were no spies listening.

"Wow, okay, what made 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' the darkest wizard, I mean, what did he _do_?" Sylvie asked.

"Well, he's a half-blood. That means that he was the child of a muggle and a wizard or witch. His mum was a witch and his dad was a muggle. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was really named Tom Riddle. So was his dad. His dad left them, I think, and I heard his mum died when he was real young, or when he was born. Over the summers Tom Riddle lived in an orphanage, and it seemed as if he never knew of his fathers own relatives. But then one year, everybody in the Riddle household died, the muggle-police couldn't find out the cause, and Tom Riddle had vanished from the orphanage. Everyone in the wizarding world knows he killed them, but we don't know why. Later, his dad also died, and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named wasn't suspected in your world, but everyone knew what had happened in mine. He was a cold-hard-murderer. And way back when _he_ attended Hogwarts, he killed a girl, she's a ghost in the castle now, always moaning about, so she earned the nickname: Moaning Myrtle. He's horrible, and when he decided to gain power, he gathered his followers and the organization I'm with now, was formed and began fighting against him. The Potters had defeated him several times. They were a young married couple named Lily and James, and were known as very kind people. They had a little baby boy named Harry. But when Harry was a year old, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named killed Lily and James, and tried to kill Harry. But somehow, Harry lived, and the curse was backfired upon the Dark Lord. No one had ever survived that curse before, so Harry is famously known as The-Boy-Who-Lived. But recently, the Dark Lord has regained his power, and his followers are quick at his side. We must stop him, or both of our worlds will be doomed," Draco explained.

"Whoa, umm, that's umm…. that's umm… _really_ scary. How old is Harry now?"

"He's in my year at Hogwarts, so I imagine he's either 15 yet, or turning 16 very soon," Draco said.

"Oh, I nearly forgot, I'm sixteen as well, I remember you mentioning that while explaining why you ran away," she said

"I guessed so, but _I_ have a question for_ you_," Draco said in mock amusement, "I've noticed you seem to have a bit of an accent, which gestures that you are not a native-born Brit, so of course, I want to know _your_ story," Draco said.

Sylvie told him, and the two soon realized that they were not as different as they first assumed, they were of same age, had similar life problems and both could use a friend in this time of need.

"Come on," Sylvie said after completing her life-story, "I'm bored just standing here, It's nearly sunrise and we should go for a walk," she said.

"There's just one problem," stated Draco, "how are we going to get over the _barbed wire fence_? As you remember, that's what got our conversation started in the first place."

"Oh! Silly of me that I didn't tell you yet, we'll simply go through the hedge. There is no gate on either side of it, it works as a fence itself, but if nimble enough, you can sneak through the branches and vines and come to the bordering sidewalk" she explained, "I would have used the hedge to get away from you, but in case you didn't notice, we were on the completely opposite side of the park, so I had no choice but to consider the barbed wire fence. So come on, let's get out of here!" Sylvie said as she began to walk towards the part of the fence that was made of a hedge, which had grown a few feet taller than the actual black-steel fence that towered over them at ten-feet high. Draco followed her, and wondered where she planned to go once they made it to the other side.

As they were walking down the street, Draco was beginning to wonder what his father, Lucious Malfoy, was thinking about right now. Did he know Draco was missing? Did he know that Draco had _run away_? Did he think Draco had been kidnapped? Did he _care_ Draco wasn't gone? Did the Dark Lord know that Draco was gone? Would he figure out that Draco left by his own consent? Draco didn't know any answers to any of his questions. "Where are we _going_?" Draco finally asked.

"We are going to a smaller, residential park, there is a boy there and he's your age, and of your…._ kind_… and, I think you just may know each other, I don't know his last name, and I just can't seem to remember his first, but it's not important, it will be nice for you to have a guy-friend in these times of need," she said as they made a right turn and then began walking faster.

"Well, if he _does_ go to my school, he's not in my house, my father is one to keep track of where all my House-mates live, in case of a party or some such gathering, and I've seen the list, and no such person lives around here. And my only… friends, are in my House, so basically, Slytherins like Slytherins and every other House hates Slytherins. So… if who-ever you're leading me to someone that you think is from my school, than they hate me, and befriending them is _not_ a smart move. Even if the person would be alone, and it would then be two against one, it just isn't worth the risk," Draco informed her with a layer of regret beneath his voice.

"What do you mean by 'house', the school is divided? And your division is hated by every other? Well, if that's the case, befriending him _is_ a smart move. That way maybe you'd be judged as a kinder and gentler person," she said in a what-I-say-goes voice. "Am I right? Why are you just staring at me? Say something!" she yelled.

"Yes, you are right; the school is divided into four Houses. Every year, the first years are sorted into a house. The four Houses are Slytherin, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw. Slytherin is known for turning out bad wizards and witches. There isn't a witch or wizard that went bad that wasn't in Slytherin. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself was in Slytherin. The first years are sorted by a Sorting-Hat, it's this magical hat that goes inside your mind, sees your qualities and weaknesses, and sorts you into one of the four houses. The Sorting-Hat sorted me into Slytherin the second it touched my head, but what no one knows, savor you, is that I asked it to. I don't know what House I would have been in if I hadn't have asked, but I know that it is the only reason that I _am_ a Slytherin. I asked to be in Slytherin because I knew that was what my father would expect, and if I was going to be a successful double-crosser, I would need to do what he expected on the surface. But, in order to be a Slytherin, you have to be a nasty little slime-ball, completely egocentric, and ruthless. So, I play my role as a mean, little

rich boy. Now, go ahead and lead me to wherever it is that you wish, but don't say I didn't warn you about it," Draco explained with a layer of anger beneath his tale.

They had reached the small, residential park, and Draco immediately recognized the boy on the swings. The wind was blowing his jet-black hair, and his round-rimmed, black glasses reflected the nearest streetlight.

"Hello, Harry," Draco said in a friendly greeting.

"Malfoy! What the bloody hell do you want?" Harry asked menacingly.

"See, I _told_ you this was a _bad_ idea," Draco said to Sylvie.

"Sylvie, why did you bring _this_ load of scum here? I mean, _really_, I thought you had a better judge of character than that," Harry said in a pissed-off tone. But no one was more angry at the moment than Sylvie, for she took insults far worse than being proven wrong.

"I HAVE A BAD JUDGE OF CHARACTER? IS THAT WHAT YOU'RE SAYING?" she yelled, "You don't even know him! All you know is lies and you won't even give anybody a chance, you pathetic, little, dog-like…"

"Sylvie, stop!" Draco shouted to Sylvie over her own noise, "Yes, he does only know lies, but you realize that he has been explained nothing, so it would be unfair to expect someone to simply gather all the information from the air. He isn't a mind-reader, and I am prepared to tell him everything I've told you, but I think you need some sleep, as you're umm, just a little cranky. But who's to blame" he added hurriedly, "it's almost 5:30AM; anyone would be tired at this hour, especially after running for their lives earlier. So head home, and sleep, I'll be back when everything is settled, okay?" He asked her innocently. It was Sylvie's nature to object to such proposal, but she realized that she _had_ just heard the entire story, and that she _was_ tired. Draco was caring about her and she decided to show that she took him seriously and trusted him.

"Okay" she said, "I'll see you later then. Bye, guys," she said as she turned around and began walking back the way she came.


	2. Thinking it Through

It had been near two-months since Draco and Sylvie had meet, and their time together was coming to an abrupt end. Neither of the two wished to part and Sylvie was indeed considering a crazy scheme to insure that their time would in fact; not have to end at all. She was planning on heading to Hogwarts. She didn't know if they accepted students beyond first-years, but even if they didn't, she was going to fight her end tooth and nail. She knew she was going to win, and she knew that it would be incredibly hard. She would have to enter the school with classmates who had five years worth of knowledge and experience and struggle to comprehend everything they considered as review or "simple". She would have to take extra classes outside of school to catch up, but she knew, somehow she knew, that they would allow it. She didn't know exactly how, but she knew that her parents must have been very important people. Surly this wouldn't be taken lightly while the school debated whether or not her acceptance was in order? She had a plan and she was prepared to act.

Draco was scared about what was coming. He knew that if and when he returned to school, his father would be notified immediately, as of course there were high-priced rewards for information regarding Draco; who had been missing now for near two months. He knew that once his father got wind that Draco was back at the school, that he father would know that Draco had run away. Of course this would mean that Lucious wouldn't stop until he found the explanation for it. Rich young men didn't run away for two months then turn back up at the start of term, it wasn't normal, and Draco knew that Lucious wouldn't stop until he had reached the bottom of it. He knew that what it meant was that everyone he knew was in danger, especially the organization he belonged to, what if his father found out about that? And what of Sylvie, surly she would be the first suspected of forcing him to leave his home. Draco knew that no one could ever know about his savor, Sylvie Morgans, for even though it would truly pain him to leave her, he knew it was for her own safety, and for the safety of the organization. He hoped he could play the "spoiled" card and act as if he was fed up because his parents wouldn't give him everything he wanted. Surly anyone would believe that, and no further questions would be asked.

He had never been a particularly religious person before, but now Draco was beginning to wonder if there really was a higher power. From what Sylvie had told him, she had only met Harry just the week before she met him. She had no idea who he was really, or what horrors were his past. And what of Sylvie? Was she only some coincidence? As Draco began reliving the night they first met, he believed that everything _did_ happen for a reason, but he wasn't meant to know that reason just yet. Did it involve Sylvie? Was she an answer to an unsolved riddle? Or would she only create more unsolvable answers? Draco didn't know, but he had a feeling he would find out soon enough.


	3. A Night of Firsts

Draco looked out the window of the Hogwarts Express and immediately began missing Sylvie. It had been a hard parting, and neither wanted it to happen. Draco was alone with his thoughts in his compartment, although his "friends" were very anxious to inquire him on where he had _been_ over the last two months; he had waved them away and told them he needed time to himself. So when there was a knock on the glass, he didn't bother to even tell them to go away. He nestled himself into a corner of the chair, and began to take a nap, hoping to dream of his adventures with Sylvie.

Sylvie didn't really know why Draco didn't look up when she knocked, but now she saw she was just going to have to invite herself in, as he appeared to have _already_ fallen asleep. She quietly slid the glass door open and stepped into his compartment. She walked over to his side and knelt down by his face. She didn't even think about what she was about to do, but it felt right so she went with that instinct.

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his so delicately she didn't even know if it would wake him or not. Draco opened his eyes gradually, as if he didn't really think it was real, perhaps he thought it was a crazy dream. Then his body jolted as he realized that it wasn't. Sylvie pulled away and gave him a big smile. He couldn't put it together. How did she get here? Why did she come? Did she just _kiss him_?

"Wha-what…. h-how? How did you get here?" he stammered.

"Oh, it was easy," she said as she grinned at him, "I just went to platform nine and three-quarters, and got on the train".

Draco didn't know what to say or do. His stomach was twitching and he couldn't stop smiling, all he wanted to do was reach out and pull her towards him. As he reached out and placed his hands on her waist, she draped hers around his neck and looked deep up into his eyes, they came closer and kissed. It seemed like they stayed like that forever, but somehow, later came. They got off the train together, and held hands as they looked for a carriage to get into. Sylvie looked a long time at the creatures that pulled the carriages they passed. They looked like black horses, but with wings, and white eyes. They had a dragon-like look to them. Draco had to lead her past many carriages because they all appeared to be full, savor one, which just so happened to contain Harry, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasely. They let go of each other's hands just before they stepped inside, and as they did so, they received a load of unappreciatable looks. Hermione looked like she could slap Draco and not care. Ron was turning red with hate, and Harry was staring at Sylvie as if she was a ghost.

"How the bloody hell did you get _here_?" he asked her.

"So nice to see you, too," she returned.

Draco smiled to himself as he watched Harry glare at Sylvie, and thought _That's Sylvie for you, too clever for her own good. _The trip to the school was a silent one, and for a good reason. Harry was completely confused, Sylvie didn't know Ron or Hermione so she couldn't explain anything to Harry, Hermione and Ron hated Draco, and savor Draco and Sylvie, no one knew what the hell was going on. They arrived at the school and the moment Sylvie was dreading had arrived. She had already sent notice to the Headmaster, and therefore received her supply list, but she had _no idea_ exactly what this "sorting" business was or what it involved. She began feeling extremely nervous.

Draco was wondering what his sixth year at Hogwarts would bring him, when he glanced over at Sylvie. She was incredibly pale and obviously extremely nervous. Suddenly Draco didn't care what anyone thought, he reached out and grabbed her right hand with his left. She looked up at him and their eyes locked. Draco wanted her to ask questions, and he wanted to be able to answer them. But he knew that in his time at Hogwarts, no one other than first years would be sorted. Immediately he had a lot of questions. Would she be put in sixth year; or started in first as a sixteen year old? What House would she be placed in?

Within a seconds worth of questions, Draco knew that the answers didn't matter, he had to pull Sylvie aside before they entered the Great Hall. As they reached the doors, he quickly pulled her over near the entrance, but far enough away from the rush of students. She looked at him as if he were insane and said, "Are you mad? What the heck do you think you are _doing_?"

"Shh…" he said as he quieted her with a small gesture of his free hand, as his left was occupied grasping her right, "You're going to get sorted by the Sorting Hat… it's a magical hat that can sense your abilities and places you in a House. The hat speaks, and I didn't wait for it to say anything to me, I asked it to place me in Slytherin," he said in hushed tones, "so, I guess, I know that it has a lot to do with choice, and I need you to ask to be put in Gryffindor," he explained.

"What the _crap are you smoking_?" she asked in total disbelief.

"These are really dangerous times for everyone, and those in Slytherin will be somewhat safer from the danger, but if the danger reaches Hogwarts, you, as a new, yet sixteen-year-old student, will be less pondered if you are not placed in Slytherin," he explained barely above a whisper.

Sylvie didn't know what to say or do but at that moment it didn't really matter, as nearly the entire flood of students had passed through the doors, and she especially, needed to catch up. She continued to gaze into his eyes and nodded. Part of her instinct told her that she had only known him for two months, but being in love, she completely trusted him.

They followed the remaining students, but as they neared the Great Hall, they had to separate directions. They didn't say a word as they parted, but the thought lines linking the two were nearly visible.

Draco walked into the Great Hall, found the Slytherin table, and seated himself next to his cronies, Crabe and Goyle. They were no doubt about to about to ask him all the questions they weren't allowed to on the train, when Professor McGonagall entered followed by a shadow of first years. She led them to the facade of the Great Hall until they were lined in front of the staff table. She set the small wooden stool she was carrying in front of them. On the stool sat the ancient wizard's hat, dreadfully patched and worn, with a very well-built tear near the rim.

Draco knew what was happening, but couldn't recall the details. He knew the hat sang a song similar to the one it sang last year, but he couldn't evoke the words. He was too nervous; he had no idea if his plan would work, or if it really was the best thing after all. McGonagall began calling names and the sorting process began. He knew it would be some wait, as Sylvie, with the last name of Morgans, wouldn't be called until the middle of the process. He listened, and tried to act pleased when first-years were placed in his House, but as "McGregor, Kylie!" was called out, he began getting extremely unnerved. Then, awhile later, "Mosher, Steven!", his hands began lightly trembling beneath the table. Finally, a few minutes later, after the hat had placed Steven in Ravenclaw, "Morgans, Sylvie!". The students seemed somewhat more interested in Sylvie, although she was around their height, she did _not_ have the figure of a first year.

She sat on the tool, and after what was longer than it took some, the Sorting Hat yelled, "Gryffindor!". The Gryffindor table clapped as she headed over and joined them.

Draco could see the back of her blonde head from his spot at his table she had her hair pulled up loosely in a ponytail and stray ends hung at the base of her neck. As he gazed at her, he wondered if she was thinking of him, too.

Sylvie was receiving a lot of odd looks from the fellow Gryffindors once the ceremony had ended. She was seated around older students, and two first-years. She suddenly recognized one of the older students as the girl from the carriage. And it was the girl from the carriage who spoke to Sylvie first.

"So, how old _are you_, exactly?" she asked as she peered at Sylvie over her plate of food that had magically risen after the Headmaster gave a brisk welcoming speech.

"Why do you ask?" Sylvie said in a somewhat rude manor, but Sylvie saw it as justified, after all, this girl was talking to her in _very_ disrespectful tones.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said sarcastically, "I didn't realize Malfoy was into first-years," she said in an extremely rude voice.

"I'm sorry you care so much," Sylvie returned, "but I don't believe that you have right to judge me, as you don't know me, and evidently don't respect me," she said in a calm tone.

"And _why_ should I respect _you_?" she said in what Sylvie thought was a tremendously bitchy way.

"Well, you should respect me, for I have not sunk to your level of obscure mind-games and excessive rudeness and disrespect," she explained.

Everyone at the table was listening and watching with their jaws hanging open. A red-haired boy looked ready to jump into the fight.

"_Excessive! _ You think I'm excess…"

"Hermione! Gosh, listen to you, what did she ever do?" he asked.

Hermione stared at him through eyes of pure ice. The look alone made the red-haired boy slide slightly further away from her on the table bench.

Sylvie hadn't touched any of her food, but suddenly she had to go, she had no idea where the _hell_ she was going, she just knew she _had_ to get away from the Hermione-bitch, and the sooner the better. She left through the outsized entrance of the Great Hall, and immediately became puzzled as she looked around at her surroundings. This castle was so large, if she got lost; she had no idea if she would even be found. She searched around the corridor and eventually found a small hallway. She followed it and when she came to a right turn, she sat on the ground, and pondered her thoughts. The hat had told her she should be in Slytherin; she had had to insist on her placement in Gryffindor. She wished now she hadn't, she would have so loved to be with Draco all the time, and very much enjoyed not being constantly surrounded by the Hermione-bitch. Why _had_ Draco insisted on Gryffindor? Why not the other two Houses? She wished he was with her at that moment. She knew that Hermione would never let her live down a relationship with Draco; what was Sylvie to do? She couldn't give him up. She thought that perhaps it _was_ a bad idea to come to Hogwarts. She had done it to be with Draco, but now it looked like it didn't matter, she wouldn't be with him anyway. Suddenly she heard footsteps down her passage. She stood up and prepared herself for the worst, it was probably Hermione, come to bitch at her some more. The footsteps got louder, and she felt her mouth gearing up.

"Sylvie? Is that you?" said Draco in a quiet voice.

Sylvie ran to him and draped her arms around his neck, standing on her tip-toes to do so. Draco didn't know what to do. He had never been in this situation before so he positioned both of his hands on the small of her back. He looked down at her at the exact same time she looked up. Draco lowered his face and kissed her more passionately than he thought possible. After, he told her to follow him. He led her down the corridor and through others until he reached many flights of stairs. From there he led her through a maze until he stopped next to a large stretch of blank wall across from a gigantic tapestry of a peculiar man training odd, tall, grey colored figures what looked like the ballet. Sylvie watched with complete wonder as Draco walked back and forth across the blank stretch of wall. She was completely shocked when a tall, oak door emerged from nowhere in the middle of the blank wall. Draco smiled as he looked at the door, took her hand, and led her inside.

The room was of the deepest, most luxurious reds. There was a large bed in the middle of the room, cherry wood with scarlet colored silk blankets. The walls were just plain crimson, which matched the below carpet. On small shelves placed at random intervals all around the room, were red candles that provided the only source of light. Rose pedals were falling from someplace in the air, just beneath the ceiling. Draco took Sylvie's hand and led her beside the bed. "This won't hurt a bit," Draco whispered as he withdrew his wand. He mumbled a spell, pointing his wand at her so as she would not conceive.

Sylvie was trembling, but not because she was scared. _Just breathe,_ she told her self, _just breathe_. Tingles were shot up her spine as Draco reached behind her head and pulled the binder from her hair, and lay her soft hair down past her shoulders. He then took off her robes. She felt her body begging him to do it, and gave in. Next was her turn, she took off _his_ robes and began pulling playfully with his tie. She pulled his face downward and kissed him slowly. He lifted up her sweater and pulled it over her head. Once they had finished, Draco guided her further towards the bed and lay above her. Sylvie looked up into his eyes and felt so safe, so protected. From what she did not know, but as long as he was there with her, she wasn't afraid of anything. Suddenly, she realized she didn't know what to do, so she closed her eyes. What happened next would change how she viewed a great deal of things. She _knew_ what they were doing was wrong, she_ knew_ she was too young, she _knew_ that she should have been stronger and resisted. But the same questions kept running through her mind, _How can something so wrong feel so right? If it feels so right, than is it even wrong? _She knew the act she was committing was wrong, yet she was in love. They were making love because they were in love. After, Draco wrapped his arms around her and they drifted toward sleep.

Sylvie woke with a jolt and sat in bed beside Draco. She had no idea what time it was but knew they would both be in immense trouble if they were caught leaving the mysterious room together, or worse, caught inside it together. She his shoulder lightly, and he gazed into her eyes above him.

"Hey," she whispered.

"Hi…," he returned sleepily. "Wait… what time is it?" he withdrew his left arm from beneath the covers and peered at his watch, "Shit! We have to go _now_ Sylvie, it's a half-hour 'till lessons begin! Everyone is probably in the Great Hall eating by now!"

They rushed to get dressed and were running out of the room not five minutes later. They ran and ran and finally came to the entrance of the Great Hall. "You go in first; it will be suspicious if we both enter late at the same time. Better yet, I should skip breakfast altogether and tell anyone who asks that I overslept. But Sylvie, you need an excuse for never going to your House, say you got lost and couldn't find it and ended up sleeping in a small passageway or something, they'll notice you weren't there because you're new, but I can go unaccounted for. Okay?" she nodded and walked into the Great Hall.

She took a seat near the end, where no one else was sitting. She received her schedule and realized to her delight, she was to be in sixth-year and had some classes with the Slytherins! That meant she could be with Draco during school! She felt her spine tingle as she thought over what had the night before. She felt she would be embarrassed if word got out of it, yet somehow she wasn't ashamed. She ate a slice of toast hurriedly and washed it down with orange juice. She gazed at her schedule again and hurried to her first class. She had heard Professor Snape's classes were down by the dungeons, and she was worried she would get lost and be late.

Her first class was N.E.W.T. potions with the Slytherins. Sylvie could not figure out why, of all things, she was put in an _advanced_ class. After all, she had only recently arrived and had no idea if she was remotely _acceptable_ at this magic business, anyway. She was walking along the stark corridors hoping to be relatively close to Potions class when she heard the faint slap of footsteps behind her. She turned to see who was approaching and immediately felt a knot form in her stomach. It was Hermione.

"There you are, you're going to be late if you don't hurry it up!" Hermione stated, this time without the bitchy-tones she had used the previous night.

"How do you even know what class I'm _going _to?" Sylvie asked coldly. She was definitely not in the mood to interrogated, and she had a feeling that was where this was headed.

"_You're _one to ask questions," Hermione started heatedly, "where were you last night anyway? I hope you know that many people _did_ take notice you never arrived."

"Not that it's any of _your_ business, but after I stormed out from your _inexplicable rudeness, _I searched for the Gryffindor… house… or whatever, but ended up getting _unbelievably_ lost. I somewhat retraced my steps, and made it to near the Great Hall, but by then it was vacant. I ended up sleeping in a small passageway," Sylvie lied without a flicker of doubt that she would fool Hermione. She knew her face read truth, and that was what made her such a skilled liar. She knew what to say, how to say it, where to look, and what gestures to make and not to make. She had fooled many before, but none more satisfying than this.

"Oh… alright," Hermione seemed to be apologizing, "well, let's get to class before we become late." And with that Sylvie followed her adversary through the dreary corridors to their Potions class.


	4. Heather McKenzie

Hermione entered the dungeon-like classroom and Sylvie followed suit. She felt that she really had no business there, but that it would be far worse to refuse any of the classes that had been assigned to her. Hermione sat down next to Harry, and Sylvie had no idea where best to seat herself. She glanced over to the left side of the room, searching for Draco, and spotted him. He was leaning over a scroll of parchment, his quill moving steadily from side to side. He obviously didn't know she would be placed in this class, as it was more logical she would be placed in a regular level, otherwise; she knew he would be scanning the room for her as well. Sylvie so desperately wanted to seat herself next to Draco, but knew that by doing so, she would arouse unwanted suspicion in Hermione, so she instead took a seat at a vacant table at the very front of the classroom on the Gryffindor side. She had been seated for only moments, when the sound behind her of the door closing brought her back into reality. She turned her head and took note of how quiet the dungeon had become. The very air around her felt tenser. Proud footsteps proceeded closer to her, and she looked with hidden disgust, at her potions teacher.

"Quiet…" Professor Snape muttered icily. He marched himself to the front of the room and began staring cruelly at them all. Sylvie took note that he, however, did not stare so cruelly at the Slytherins, he merely glanced in their direction. Then his eyes were upon Sylvie. She resisted the urge to swallow a lump of fear which had formed within her throat. "_Don't let him see that he gets to you..." _the voice inside her head kept saying. When his eyes finally lifted from her, he addressed the class.

"Now, I'm sure that some of you have the deceived belief that this class's difficulty will be anything near that of O.W.L. Potions. Those of you are wrong. I find it needless to say that some of you are not of the material that I require of my advanced students," his eyes laid on something or someone behind Sylvie, "I expect that some of you will find yourselves… _out of place_," his eyes rested this time upon Sylvie.

With that he turned his back to the class and flicked his wand at the blackboard in front of him. Instantly, a long series of notes appeared upon it. He turned around and said, "Today, we will be attempting a very advanced potion, as this is an _advanced _class," his eyes rested once again on Sylvie. This time, she sensed that Draco had looked in her direction, and spotted Snape singling her out; yet he did nothing, and she was grateful. She did not want everyone's attention upon her, Snape's was dire enough.

The potion he made them do was very complicated, and Sylvie knew hers didn't turn out anything close to the standard he expected from them. At the end of the class when the bell rang, she packed up her bag in a hurry. She wanted to get out of the class before he could critique her on how poorly she had done. Sylvie finished packing and was in her next class, Care of Magical Creatures, not five minutes later. She had run, and run like she never had before, to insure as much distance as possible between her and Snape.

She heard steps running from behind her and turned around, thinking it was impossible for Hermione to have caught up with her already. As she turned, her heart skipped a beat, literally.

"Why did you…. run… I thought….." Draco gasped between breaths.

"Shh…. don't push yourself to speak when you are this out of breath," she advised him kindly. "Let's not discuss it now; perhaps we can meet after classes?"

"Okay… uh…."

"Do you know of a place we can meet and not get caught…. besides the room last night?" she added with a half-smile.

"Do you see that large tree?" she nodded and noticed he was less out of breath now. "Meet me there at… I dunno, eleven? Do you think you can sneak out that late?" she nodded. "Okay, well I'll talk to you then…" he walked away so they wouldn't get caught conversing together.

Sylvie sat in a deep-red armchair seated near the fireplace in the Gryffindor common-room. She gazed at the clock upon the fire sill frequently, but the minutes nearing eleven wouldn't quicken their pace. She was fantasizing all the possible careers and opportunities her Hogwarts education would establish for her, when the minute-hand arrived at a quarter to eleven.

She quickly gathered and put on her cloak, then strolled out the portrait-hole. Ten minutes later she was waiting in close proximity to the tree Draco had pointed out earlier, yet far enough away to be out of the known-to-be-violent branches' path. Sylvie liked the way the Hogwarts slopes were ever so graceful in transforming from hill to mountain. She enjoyed how everything was more beautiful near the lake and the open velvet skies. Those were skies you could get lost in, gazing at their eternal beauty. She had no idea she was no longer alone until she heard the sound of someone clearing their throat behind her. She turned and looked with joy upon the face she most desperately wanted to see.

"You made it… I was worried you wouldn't be able to sneak out…."

"Worried… about _me_? You forget that I'm a friend of the streets, I can sneak just about anywhere, just about any time I want… _you_ should be the one being worried about," she teased with a sly grin.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" Draco asked; concern forming a line across his brow.

"Why… why would I be "less pondered" if I was placed in Gryffindor? You said yourself that those in Slytherin are safer during these times… and what the hell did you mean by "I need you to ask…" _need?_ What the hell do you mean "_need_"? What does my House-placement concern you for?" she fired off the questions heatedly.

"You're doing that thing again…"

"What "_thing_"?"

"That firing off questions without breathing _thing_," Draco smiled, although she pressed many matters, compulsively asked difficult questions, and expected immediate answers, he couldn't help but like her more for it.

"I'll _fire off_ as many questions as I damn well please!" she said, anger beginning to rise in her voice, "And you'll _answer _them! So get to it!"

"Wow, you may want to… uh… settle, not that you're in need of settling," he added, seeing her more-irritated expression. "Okay, um… you'd be less pondered because if you were in Slytherin, uh… er… you and er… me would be in the same House, and er… people might… _notice_ certain things and, uh, my father may find out and possibly figure out that it was you who I spent my mysterious summer with, and he may, um, react _badly_ to it. So, in a sense, I was protecting you from me to protect you from my father. I _needed_ you to ask the Sorting Hat to place you in Gryffindor because I didn't want to chance you being in Slytherin, and thus in danger, and… yeah… okay?" he finished lamely.

Sylvie didn't want to believe him, not because she didn't completely trust him, she did. More so because it was in her nature not to trust anyone's word, but that was mostly because of her bad experiences in orphanages as a child.

"I believe you, but I don't think you're saying everything. I think that you are afraid that your father will find out that I was the one you spent your "_mysterious_" summer with, and that he would react badly to it. But I also think that you're frightened your father will react even more badly because I'm not a pureblood," she explained matter-of-factly.

"Well, that's kind of true, I was worried about that, but I still have _no clue_ what percentage you are anyway… I mean, from what you've said, you don't really know who your parents are, right?" he asked with curiosity.

"I don't recall saying that, and as a matter of fact, I'm sure I did not. I do know who my parents are, and I have shared the information with no one… but I think it's time I shared at least a little; Morgans isn't my father or mother's last name. The story behind it is that the first orphanage I stayed at was the Morgans Orphanage, and the babies without names were named by the orphanage staff. I was named by Michele, a nice, elderly woman from Canada. She named me Sylvie after her grandmother, and Morgans in honor of Mathew Morgans, a close friend of Michele's and the founder of Morgans Orphanage. My birth-mother's name, which I didn't find out until years after Michele named me, is Heather McKenzie. I do in fact know who my father is, but as he does not know I exist, so I wish not to speak of him and risk the chance of him somehow catching wind of it and putting two and two together," she finished with a small smile.

"You mean your dad is alive and you've never searched him down or anything?" Draco just couldn't grasp the concept, although he would rather not know _his_ father, he couldn't picture someone like Sylvie being so distant from someone she has never given a chance to.

"Let's just say my father isn't the best person out there… matter of fact, he's worse than _your_ father."

"And just how would you know _that_ if you've never met him?" Draco inquired anxiously.

"Well, I've heard a few things among the wizarding-people and I didn't like what I heard, now don't be mistaken, my father does not have the largest reputation in the wizarding world, but whatever reputation he has, it isn't the brightest," she explained patiently.

"I still can't say I understand, but I do realize that it's your life, your father, and your decision. Just so you know, I wouldn't listen to my father if he told me not to be with you just because you aren't a pure-blood. Oh, and one question, you say your father has a bit of a reputation in the wizarding world; would I happen to have heard or know of him?"

Sylvie thought, "You might, but you might not, it really depends on where you live and your social status and what-not. So, I can't really say for sure," Sylvie stated.

"Okay, well, is that all you wanted to discuss?" Draco asked. He didn't want their time together to end, but he really didn't want the girls in Sylvie's dormitory to get curious as to why she was out so late.

"Yes, I suppose we should be heading back now…" she glanced at her watch, "being that it is nearly twelve-thirty." They kissed and then began heading towards the castle, dreading each step they took, as it brought them closer to their hesitated separation.

Sylvie returned to the Gryffindor common-room at a quarter-to-one, and she was happy to find that no one was still awake. She dressed into her night-wear and smiled because while this would be the other girls' second night in their beds, this would be her first. She took off her watch and set it on her nightstand, next to her picture of her only friend that hadn't lived in an orphanage, Jane. It was indescribable how much Sylvie missed Jane, but she couldn't just go back and spend more time with her, she had to do what she had set out to do, graduate from Hogwarts. Sylvie slipped under the covers and fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit her pillow.

She dreamed mostly of Jane. Of all the things they'd done, all the places they had been, and how Sylvie had practically lived in Jane's house. But, when Sylvie woke the next morning, she didn't remember one bit of the dreams.


	5. The Warning and the Warned

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter books, characters, settings, ideas, etc. I simply own the plot of my story, Sylvie Morgans, her mother, and her friend, Jane.

I would like to thank all my reviewers, it really means a lot to me, so thank you all. Sorry this chapter took so long, I truly do have the entire story planned out in my head, but it is hard for me to write it out in the steps necessary for it to be understandable to my readers. Thank you all, hope you enjoy chapter five! M.C.F.

The sun peeked through the curtains, and brings her gently, from a deep, peaceful sleep. She slowly rose up, enjoying the feel of the sheets on her legs, the sun on her skin, the warmth of the air. Then she remembers. She stops moving. The air is gone. She knows it one more time, she feels it, and she's there. The experience is the same, yet new, horrible, devastating. She tries to scream out, but she no longer has a voice; just like in dreams. She can no longer hear the sounds of the girls she sees wakening around her. She knows not if the pain is inside her or out. A shadow delineates the sun and slowly begins filling it in.

The tap of Hermione brought her back. '_Are you okay?' _Hermione's face asked.

"Oh, fine, I'm fine, just… daydreaming…"

"About? You seemed awfully rigid…"

"Oh, right, sorry if I worried you, I was trying to remember if there was Potions homework…" Sylvie lied.

"Uh, yeah, the paper… three scrolls-"

"Besides that?"

"No, nothing besides that."

"It seems I must have gotten alarmed over nothing then," Sylvie said as she stood up and began arranging her robes. Hermione wasn't completely satisfied with Sylvie's answer, but as Hermione needed to get ready for the school day, and Sylvie appeared to need to do the same, Hermione filed it somewhere in the back of her mind and decided she would work on it later. Hermione decided to go to breakfast as soon as possible so she could wait for Harry and Ron and not look obvious, as she would do so by waiting in the common room. She quickly dressed, brushed her hair and teeth, took one last look in the mirror hanging on the inside of the door, and left.

Sylvie realized Hermione was rushing, and wanted to know why. She was far too tired to hurry after her though, it felt like she was several hours short of sleep; despite the fact that she had gotten more than she did on her first night at Hogwarts. After she had pulled on her uniform and robes, she reached under her four-poster bed and pulled out her shoes. She slipped them on with a yawn and quickly walked over to the door, shrugged at her reflection, and headed down the stairs.

"Oh! Oh, gosh! Gosh, I'm sorry!" Sylvie exclaimed as she ran into Harry as he waited at the bottom of the girls' stairs.

"Fine, it's fine, my fault anyway… are you okay?" Harry asked nervously.

"Oh, oh, yeah, I'm good… I mean I'm fine. If you're looking for Hermione, she already headed down to breakfast. At least… I think that's where she went…" Sylvie said as she tried to remember if Hermione had said she was going down to breakfast before leaving. "My fault anyway, I wasn't paying attention, sorry."

"Actually, er, I was wondering-er, if you and I could, er, have a talk," Harry stated, even more nervously than before.

"Uh, okay, I guess, but, um, should we eat first-"

"Oh, well, this won't take long, but, could you, er, follow me?" He walked away without waiting for a response and was out of the portrait hole before Sylvie would've even been able to think of one. She followed him for what seemed like half an hour, and he stopped in front of a blank wall next to the semi-familiar portrait of the curious man that appeared to be teaching the gray creatures ballet. Sylvie didn't know what to say, but she knew that she had to tell Harry that she didn't like him like that, that her heart belonged to someone else… A cherry-wood door appeared on the wall and Harry opened it, gesturing Sylvie to join him inside. She followed, frightened.

The door opened to a plain room. There was no bed, no candles, and no sense of romance. There were no windows or paintings, only two wooden chairs in the center. Sylvie quickly calmed, this wasn't the same room after all. Harry took one chair and Sylvie walked to the center of the room and sat in the other, which was facing him.

"Uh, um, you're probably wondering why I brought you here… well, er, I was, um, well, I was, er, I was taking a walk, just a walk around the castle, um and I um, I saw you. You were, um, you were with… er, Malfoy…"

"You followed me?" Sylvie was beginning to get scared again. What had he seen? Had Draco set her up?

"Well, I wasn't, well, not at first, but, well, er, I've, um, known him, and when I saw you two, well, I... got kind of, er, concerned. I know that sounds stupid, but um-" Harry hoped he sounded convincing, after all, he hadn't exactly followed them, he had been looking at the Marauder's Map, and had seen them walking to the Room of Requirement. He remembered the strange sensation he felt as he watched the two names merge together and become one.

"Have you told anyone this?" Sylvie asked as she felt her face turn scarlet, and her palms turn cold and begin sweating.

"Er, no… I just wanted, to, um, make sure that, you, um… Malfoy, um, he's kind of the person who um…." Harry couldn't look at her anymore, so he instead stared down at his shoes. How could a girl like her like Draco? "He, um, tends to, brag about things, um…"

"So the whole school is going to think I'm a whore? Is that what you're trying to tell me? Because I don't think that he's going to. If anything I think you're going to, and try to make it look like it was him who spread the rumors… just because you don't like him doesn't mean-"

"No! No, I just, never mind, you don't want to hear it, I can tell." Harry looked into her eyes and watched them soften. It was as if layers of ice were melting, and it made Harry feel as if he was melting too.

"You know… I'm not like this. I don't just sleep with everybody. I mean, I'm _really_ not. Um, so, yeah, I'm sorry, but please don't tell people because I'm not like that and that seriously was the only time, and it's only him… and…"

"You don't need to explain, it's fine, I, really, it's just…" Harry didn't want to tell her, but what if he waited? It might be too late.

"What?" Sylvie sounded worried again.

"It's just, er, are you, uh…? Are you… er…"

"You think I'm pregnant?" Sylvie was confident that she wasn't, but then again, what if Draco hadn't done the spell right, and why would he know the spell right off hand? He had obviously performed it before. Or maybe that was just a fake. Perhaps he wanted to get her pregnant. Sylvie was once again filled with questions, and she hoped upon hope that they _could_ be answered.


	6. Questions, Questions, Awkward Answers

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Harry Potter. That all belongs to the lovely J.K. Rowling. I do own Sylvie Morgans, Heather McKenzie, and Jane.

Two days later….

Sylvie confronted Draco the day that Harry had expressed his concerns. Draco was surprisingly calm about it and she found no need to investigate further. He had explained (rather embarrassed) that his mother was the one who taught him the spell, that his mother had told him that she was too young to have grandchildren. He comforted her and she suddenly became aware that she was worried over nothing. He didn't set her up, he didn't mess up, and he still cared about her. He wasn't a typical boy after all. Most boys that Sylvie knew, she recalled, would've dumped her after the chase was over, but miraculously, Draco hadn't.

The only thing that still pressed her mind was the mystery of why Harry had followed her, why he was concerned about her. After all, they barely knew each other, why should he care what she did or with whom? Perhaps he so strongly disliked Draco that he was trying to force Sylvie to break things off with him.

It was two days after he had confronted Sylvie, and every night that he happened to look at the Marauder's Map, he saw them both in their own dormitories or common rooms. This, more than anything was what puzzled Harry the most. Sylvie had blatantly told Harry that she wasn't going to change her mind about Draco just because of what Harry thought, yet it appeared that she had indeed done so.

Three months later, Harry noticed that Sylvie withdrew from not only Draco, but everyone and anyone. She became absorbed in her schoolwork, and when she wasn't studying, she was sleeping. She skipped mealtimes more frequently than what was normal. She was losing weight. Despite the extra time she spent sleeping as opposed to socializing, he noticed that she had dark lines under her eyes, and her once captivating, beautiful green eyes frequently looked pink around the edges. He did not want to be the one to confront her again, so he consulted Hermione.

It was late at night and Harry had pulled Hermione aside at dinner and asked if he could have a private word with her later that night. She had consented and they were now the only two left in the Gryffindor common room. They occupied the two red armchairs near the fire. While Harry explained his view of the situation, Hermione gazed into the glowing timbers. Although she rarely made eye contact, he could tell she was listening with deepest concentration.

"Yes, I do know exactly what you're talking about, and I know your intentions are good, but please Harry, _please_ stay out of it," Hermione advised once he had finished expressing his concerns.

"You say that like you think that I was going to stick my nose where it doesn't belong! And that is _not_ true; I'm talking to you about it because I want to know if you could…"

"That's not what I meant, and you know it. I realize that she needs friends, and I am going to make a solid attempt at being a lot nicer to her…Harry, I'm going to tell you something, but you must_ promise_ not to tell anyone else… not even Ron," she added barely above a whisper.

"Okay… I promise I won't tell anyone," Truthfully, Harry didn't want to make such a promise, but it seemed that it was the only way that Hermione was going to tell him whatever it was that she knew, and his curiosity had a very strong hold on him when it came to Sylvie.

"Alright, well, as I said, I have noticed it, too. She talks to no one, not even the girls and I when we try to be nice in the mornings or evenings. Like you suspected, the 'extra sleep' she's getting isn't working… well that's because if anything, she's getting less sleep than before. She spends nearly every night sobbing. But she's so quiet about it, that it took me a _long_ time to figure out that that's what she was doing. It doesn't even sound like she's crying, more like she's merely breathing through her mouth or something of the sort…" Suddenly, Hermione remembered something that she had filed away in the back of her mind.

"Harry, I've just remembered something. During… I think the first week of school one morning; she was sitting up in her bed. She was so rigid she looked like she had been petrified, and her skin was as pale as the white sheets. I asked her what was wrong, and she said something about not recalling if there was homework in one of her classes or something. Ever since that, she's pulled the hangings around her, so no one can see her, no matter how nice an evening it may be. Harry, my point is this: Sylvie is obviously going through something devastating, and probably feels overwhelmed enough as it is. Unless things get worse, I think that we should let her be; she seems like the type of person who prefers to deal with things in her own way and at her own pace. Although…" Hermione's brow furrowed in deep thought. "I was thinking, with Christmas nearing and all, perhaps, if we can find out for sure that she has no where to go, she could…"

"Spend it with us? But I thought you said we weren't going to tell Ron-"

"Yes, I did say that, and it still stands. Harry, in some ways I think I know Ronald better than you… he doesn't mean to do it, but sometimes he's just a…"

"Blabbermouth?" Harry offered.

"Yes… but Harry, I don't know this for sure, but I think that Christmas will be spent at… Sirius's old house- I mean, your house – and unless the Order trusts her, I don't think that she even will be allowed to stay with us," Hermione whispered, hoping that the mention of Sirius wouldn't upset Harry.

"Yeah, that's true… I dunno, I might bring it across Ron, I won't tell him anything or anything, but maybe I could… act like it… well, I wouldn't even have to act, to be honest, I never want to enter the place again…but, I could tell him how upset it would make me... This way, Christmas would most likely be at the Burrow, and I know that the Weasley's don't mind company," Harry added with a half-laugh, picturing Mr. Weasley questioning Sylvie for hours on the works of muggles. Harry watched the center log become engulfed by the flames. He must have been watching for some time when he felt Hermione watching him. He turned to see her staring directly at him, in deep thought.

"You really like her, don't you, Harry?" the question was so simple, as if she were asking if he could hand over her schoolbag for her, but the answer was so complicated. He decided that there was no use in hiding it, not from his friends, anyway.

"Yeah, I guess I do… but I think she… this sounds stupid, but, I think she still really… well, _loves_ Malfoy… but it's… different. He acts… _nice_ to her…. he's not his typical Malfoy self when he's with her," Harry knew then that if Malfoy made Sylvie happy, and realized then that he didn't want to step between her and her happiness. He recalled how caring he was with her when Sylvie had "introduced" Malfoy to him. Harry and Malfoy had bickered, and she had been angered, but Malfoy calmed her… and he did it so carefully, so gently. Perhaps he _was_ the right one for her.

And as if she had the power to read his mind, Hermione nodded sympathetically at the silence.


	7. Making Friends, Moving On

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Harry Potter. That is only the work of J.K. Rowling. I own only the plot, Sylvie Morgans, Heather McKenzie, and Jane.

The next morning…

As Sylvie finished getting dressed she became aware that Hermione was sitting on her bed, facing the other direction, and looking as if she was waiting for something, or perhaps, someone.

"Who are you waiting for?" Sylvie inquired innocently as she took one last look in the mirror on the door. She characteristically shrugged at her reflection and had her hand on the doorknob, about to open it when Hermione spoke.

"Well, actually, I was waiting for you. I was wondering if you might be interested in eating breakfast with me today."

The surprise must have shown on Sylvie's face, for Hermione smiled. "Oh, um, sure," Sylvie agreed. They walked down to the Great Hall together and both took seats next to each other at the Gryffindor table. Sylvie was suspicious as to why, all of the sudden, Hermione was being unnecessarily nice to her. Sylvie suspected there were hidden motives, but she was clueless as to what they were. Being that she was so in need of a good friend, a person to talk to, she decided to trust Hermione for the sake of a friendship.

She was avoiding him, even someone as thick as Crabbe or Goyle would know. Draco was hurt. As far as he could've told, after she'd asked him those awkward questions, it had seemed that they were just fine, that they would continue to be close. Draco didn't have the slightest idea why she was avoiding him, and he became more and more tempted to talk to her about it with each passing day that they didn't speak to one another. He now regretted that he had made her tell the Sorting Hat to be put in Gryffindor. It would be so much easier to talk to her if she was in his own House, but he knew that it was too late to change anything, and she appeared to be happy. She recently took a strong liking to Granger, and Draco could tell, even from the distance that was always between them, that she was at ease. As long as she was happy, Draco figured that he could manage. Besides, every time that he tried to approach her, she would purposely flee from him, cowering with Granger, as if she thought that if she was near Granger, Draco wouldn't talk to her. This frustrated Draco more than anything, that Sylvie, the bravest person he knew, was so afraid of him that she felt that she had to use a "shield" whenever remotely near him. "_Why is she so afraid of me all of the sudden?" _Draco asked every night when he found his thoughts spinning on bizarre explanations for her strange behavior. _"What have I gotten myself into?"_ he wondered aloud one night.

He bolted up in bed, hoping that no one heard his outburst. He pulled the dark, deep emerald hangings from around his bed and peered at his surrounding roommates. They all appeared to be sleeping, Crabbe was bunched up as small as a big person such as him could get, Goyle was snoring very loudly, and everything was quiet on the other side of the room. This assured him that none of his roommates had heard, and even if they had… they really wouldn't know what he was talking about, or if he was talking in his sleep. After remaining calm for several minutes, Draco decided that he couldn't sleep anyway. He slipped out of bed and headed out of the dormitory, down the stairs, and into the Slytherin common room. As he expected, it was completely empty. There was a small wooden clock on one of the tables, and he walked over to it. It told him that it was just after two in the morning. Draco walked back across the room, and settled himself in a luscious, black leather loveseat.

Perhaps the reason she was avoiding him, was because she was trying to test him. He had, after all…. maybe she thought that he didn't want any other part of her… perhaps it was a test to see…. how much he really liked her? Or maybe she really did just need some time alone. But how long would she need? It had already been three months… and nothing had happened. Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, his best idea yet had come to him. He bolted out of the chair, up the stairs, into the dormitory, got dressed, and got through the passageway. He knew from his experiences as a Prefect that the Gryffindor common room was several floors up, and inside of a portrait of a fat lady. He found it after a long walk, as it was nowhere near the Slytherin's dorms, and seated himself just outside the portrait of the fat lady. He got up and glanced at the clock in the neighboring corridor every so often, and finally, to his delight, saw that soon, students would begin emerging from the portrait hole. He pulled out his wand, tapped his head, and looked in the reflection from the small glass panes on a cabinet. His Disillusionment Charm had worked; he now blended in with his surroundings. No sooner had he checked than the portrait opened, to reveal several students emerging, heading down to the Great Hall for breakfast. After a particularly small bunch of first year girls exited, he crept inside the portrait hole before it swung shut. He silently walked across the common room until he was near the two sets of staircases; there he waited.

After what seemed like days, Sylvie and Hermione emerged from the right-hand side staircase, giggling at something that Hermione had apparently said. He waited until Granger had passed him, and Sylvie was a mere foot away before he grabbed her arm and pulled her close. This of course, startled her immensely. He leaned down and whispered in her ear in what he hoped would be a calm and soothing voice, "We need to talk, and you've been avoiding me… please don't walk away."

Her expression softened and just as Granger turned around, she called across the room, "Sorry, Hermione… I just remembered that I forgot to do my potions homework… I'll see you in lessons… but I really do need to finish that… Bye!" she added cheerfully, as Hermione turned and left, completely believing Sylvie's lie.

He waited until the last of the flood of students had gone through the portrait before taking off the Disillusionment charm and speaking.

"I suppose you want to know why I'm here?" Draco asked rhetorically.

"Well, it's because every time that I try to talk to me, you run away. I want you to know that… what happened… I'm sorry."

Sylvie looked him squarely in the eye. "No. No, no, no. I should be sorry. I've been a very mean person for several months now… and I really do owe you an explanation… and I know I hurt you. But… it's well… to say – a _very_ long story. So if you want to know everything… we'll have to meet sometime and talk when we don't have lessons coming up. But long story short, before I even met you, I was with the best foster-family I'd ever been with. But then something tragic happened. I bottled it away, and what I ended up learning is that doors don't always stay closed. These past few months I've been dealing with it, and now I think I'm ready to come back to the real world."

Draco looked down into her eyes, his so soft and understanding. Oh, how he wanted to reach out and hold her – but would she let him? He moved closer. And in is softest voice told her, "I might kiss you.


End file.
